Lies Agreed Upon
by aeon fear
Summary: "You do have to understand that the founding of Shin Makoku has always been more complicated than the accounts written in the books," Murata says. "and much of it was not known, even to Erhard." This is the story of Shin Makoku's beginnings...Please R&R!
1. Past, Present and Perspectives

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou.

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><p>Murata Ken finds bliss in the ordinary days of Shin Makoku-in those days when he would converse with Ulrike, comparing their lifespan, their experiences. Those days when he would be followed around by a mini-Shinou on his shoulder.<p>

Now that Soshuo was gone, he wants nothing more than to maintain the peace Yuuri had brought to this country. To use every bit of his intelligence (and, modesty aside, he did have quite a lot of it) in protecting Shin Makoku.

However, even he had his own secrets. Secrets he keeps from those closest to his heart- Shinou, and Yuuri.

First of these secrets was his relief that the long cycle of his rebirth was finally over. Four thousand years...four thousand years of endless lives, death, loves-more than he had cared to count. It was a burden that he had carried without a single complaint at that time, but now that it was over, he realizes how heavy that duty had been.

He is now free to pursue his interests as Murata Ken. He is now given the freedom to forget about being the Great Sage, at least a little. The second secret was his...desire to forget.

At least sometimes.

The gates of Blood Pledge Castle are open for him. There are maids who greet him, shooting his black hair and eyes adoring looks. Today he had been asked to come to the castle to commemorate an event he had long waited for.

"Murata!"

Murata turns, and smiles as he sees Shibuya Yuuri and Wolfram von Beilifield walking towards him. "Shibuya!"

"I'm so glad you could come," Yuuri tells him in a low voice. "Gunter has been at it since this morning."

His smile widens. "You have to understand, Shibuya. This is a historical moment."

"Gunter has worked hard to copy out Erhard Wincott's diary, wimp." sniffs Wolfram. "Don't tell me you've forgotten how useful it had been in the battle against Soushuo."

"I haven't forgotten!" Yuuri protests.

"What Shibuya means is that he's not looking forward to extra history lessons," Murata provides succintly.

"Exactly! No, wait, that's not what I meant-" Yuuri falters as Wolfram gives him another smoldering glare.

"You're the KING!" rants Wolfram. "How can we have a king who's ignorant of his own country's history?"

Yuuri is clearly desperate. "Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"I think that you should read it, Shibuya," Murata recommends quietly.

Wolfram and Yuuri both turn to him, and Murata could almost hear the "click" as Yuuri understood what he meant. "There's a part of your history there, too, right?"

"History," Murata repeats. Sunlight glints off his glasses, temporarily hiding his eyes. "Oh yes. That's exactly what Erhard's diary is."

"Murata-"

"You do have to understand that the founding of Shin Makoku has always been more complicated than the accounts written in the books," Murata says. "and much of it was not known, even to Erhard."

"Then...can you tell us what happened, too?" Yuuri asks. "With your story...and Erhard's, the founding will be complete, right?"

"What brought this on so suddenly?" Murata tries to brush off his friend's suggestion. "If I add my account to Erhard's you won't get out of Sir von Kleist's history lessons until you decide to marry Sir von Beilifield."

It's amusing how both boys blush. Synchronocity. But neither voice any protests.

Aha, Murata thought. He smiles again then. "Oh well. It's a taboo subject anyway."

"You were the ones who declared it a taboo," Yuuri argues. "You can break it. Didnt you say that this is the last life that you'll remember your past with Shinou?"

Murata does not reply, but nobody notices. At that precise moment Gunter swoops down on them and drags Yuuri, Murata and Wolfram to the Maou's office. The lavender-haired man is wailing about the importance of the unveiling of Erhard's diary.

Yuuri sighs, but the look that he shoots Murata says, 'Please think about it.'

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><p>That night, Murata Ken found himself in his room at the Shinou temple, a jug of spiced wine at his side. He looks out into the night, thinking of Yuuri's words.<p>

The thought has implanted itself in his head, and it would not go away. He is thinking about it.

What had Erhard felt, all those times he wrote in that diary? Did he dream one day how important its role would be? Did it bring him relief?

Did he know?

"Damn it," he mutters, downing his third cup of wine.

As if his words were a signal, there is a shimmer in the room, announcing the very last person he wanted to see when he was like this.

"Was it really so bad, then?" Shinou asks, almost timidly.

"You should learn to knock," Murata gripes. "That's usually why they put doors."

Shinou does not seem to be in the mood for bantering. "I heard what Yuuri had to say. I can tell you're thinking about it."

Murata whirls around to face Shinou. "Yes." he admits. "I am tempted."

"Why don't you take him up on it?"

Murata tries for a smile. "I've never been much of a writer," he says lamely. It was meant to be a joke, but it does not come out that way. It only becomes glaringly obvious how much he wanted to put off having the decision.

Shinou follows the thought that he does not dare speak. "Was it so bad, then?"

"No! Not at all," Murata stumbles over his words in his haste. "It is what the Daikenja-me-has decided, freely. Don't think that everyhing was caused by you." The last bit was said with a faint chuckle.

"You are not the Daikenja," sighs Shinou, "Only his soul is yours. Otherwise, Murata Ken, your life is for you to live."

Murata raises his brows. "I think that may be the first time that you have said that to me."

"You are precious, old friend," Shinou continues. "you have kept your promise a thousand times more than what was expected of you. You deserve happiness. Yuuri is right."

Murata stares out the window again. "I am happy." he says simply.

"You'll forget me in the next life," the Original King argues. "will you be happy then?"

And THAT was a question that Murata could not answer with a joke, because they both knew the real answer.

They were silent for a while, until Murata gives up. "It wasn't so bad," concedes Murata. "all lives have their times of happiness, times of pain."

"Then why don't you write it?"

Murata glares. "will you just wait until I make up my mind?"

Shinou laughs. "There are parts that Erhard does not know."

"Yes."

"There are parts that only we know."

"Yes."

"Well, then, since Yuuri is having those lessons anyway, why don't we break the taboo?"

Murata closes his eyes. "Can you imagine how long four thousand years' woth of lifetime is going to take in print?"

"I'll help you," Shinou offers. "I will tell you, my part as well. How I found you. Why I asked you to help me. How I felt." He crosses his arms. "You needn't tell them everything. Just your first life. The Daikenja."

And there it is again, temptation singing in his veins. To unload his burden.

To tell his story.

"Our story," Shinou corrects him. Again he is following Murata's unspoken thoughts.

"It's creepy when you know me so well," Murata says.

Shinou only nods. "Of course."

"There's Morgiff," Murata point out. "The Demon Mirror. The Demon flute. Erhard's robot. There's also Lawrence, Siegbert and Rufus, aside from Erhard himself and Christel. The first Shrine Maiden. It's long, and complicated. Like I told Shibuya."

"I know. I was there, wasn't I?"

Murata and Shinou stare at each other.

"All right," Murata finally says. "Where shall we begin?"

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><p>AN: First chapter down, which is really more of a prologue. If you managed to finish it up to here, why don't you take the time to review? I would truly appreciate it.

The title is from Napoleon Bonaparte. He said, "history is nothing more than lies we agreed upon." Which, in a sinister way, is appropriate. ,

Review? Alerts?

Thank you!


	2. Always Be on Guard

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou, or else i would have had more concrete material to work this with. In other words, i would've been more explicit on the past of Shin Makoku! oh, well, material for new stories, ne?

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><p>-Caloria-<p>

The Enemy was rising.

Erhard Wincott gazed silently out of his laboratory window. As the eldest son of the ruling Wincott family, it was his responsibility to protect Caloria and her people. The sun, the sea, the port…it was his whole life. His family.

There was a knock on the door. He did not acknowledge it, lost in the labyrinth of his grim thoughts.

The intentions were there, which was well and good. However…

His hand clenched around the piece of paper that he had been reading. The Enemy was still marching. He'd used up most of his inventions setting up defenses, but Caloria was too small to stand against that Enemy.

Not enough people.

The army was tiny.

Hope…

No.

He would not give up hope.

"-Brother!"

"Eh?" Erhard mumbled. "Christel?"

His younger brother stood before him, looking more worried than annoyed. Scratch that-Christel looked upset, and Erhard knew that it wasn't solely because of the threat of the Enemy. "Brother, have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"Not particularly," admitted Erhard.

Christel scowled.

Erhard smiled faintly, somewhat amazed that he was still able to do so. "But I know what you are going to say."

"Do enlighten me," Christel sighed.

Erhard stared out of the window again. "The Calorians want us gone."

Apparently, he'd hit the nail on the head, because Christel was gaping at him. "H-How did you…?"

Erhard was a man who relied on forethought; his whole life was based on it. He would not have been a successful experimenter otherwise. He shook his head. "We have not been able to protect the people from the Enemy," he began. "Even though we are Mazoku. Even though we have maryoku. They are…they are searching for something to blame."

"Something? Someone is more like it. How can they be so ungrateful?" Christel slammed his palms on Erhard's desk, nearly upsetting several vials of liquid.

"OY! Watch it!" roared Erhard.

"I don't believe it. Are your experiments more important than Caloria's welfare?"

"You're not showing your concern for Caloria by destroying my office," Erhard replied bluntly. "It is precisely for the destruction of the Enemy-this is the reason that I am experimenting."

They fell silent then, and Erhard knew that they were thinking of the same thing.

The Enemy, as Erhard so aptly put it, had appeared a little over a year ago. Their parents did not worry too much at first-the Mazoku, the long-lived race, had fought and battled more enemies.

Yet, it didn't take long for them to see that this Enemy was different from others. The attacks were senseless, and did not stop. It was later found out that the "soldiers" of the enemy were more like dolls-or puppets controlled by a single master. Nothing short of total destruction via maryoku could stop the dolls, and since Caloria was largely a human country, they were slowly becoming overrun.

When they sought to seek aid from the other countries, they found that the Enemy was attacking the other countries as well. It was complete pandemonium, as each country battled the Enemy.

Perhaps the worst thing was no one could see why it was happening. There was of course enmity between the Mazoku and human communities, but both communities were being attacked. It seemed as if the Enemy had appeared overnight.

So much destruction.

So many dead.

Then, barely six months ago, Erhard and Christel's own parents fell while fighting the enemy. Maryoku exhaustion.

"I don't get it," Christel said wearily. "Why? Why do they want us gone? We've suffered losses too…and we're practically the only protection they have! Maybe this is a new sort of attack from the Enemy, Brother-"

"No," Erhard cut him off. In a more peaceful time, Erhard might have been amused at his brother's naivety. "They did it on their own. They think, since the Enemy could be stopped by Maryoku, that we have somehow caused it."

Christel's voice crackled with fury. "Caused our own parents to die?"

"Get a hold of yourself," Erhard said emotionlessly. "I am telling you this because I thought we were both thinking adults."

Immediately, Christel was ashamed. "I'm sorry, Brother," he muttered humbly.

Erhard softened. "In any case, they think that we-the Mazoku-created the enemy so that they will become more dependent on us who use Maryoku. They think that, we are willing to sacrifice our own brethren because of it."

"And…Caloria?"

Erhard shook his head sadly. "We do not hold their trust anymore-they have been listening to the rumors. We have to leave."

"Leave!" gasped Christel. "But-we-we are the rulers of Caloria!"

"We don't have any one to rule over if the people won't accept us," Erhard pointed out. "I have just received a letter from Tringham. He says that this may be the right time for us to leave…"

Christel grabbed the letter from Erhard, his eyes widening in horror as he read each line. "So…this is it?" he said bleakly when he was done. "We just let ourselves…be thrown out of our country?"

Erhard grasped his younger brother's shoulders, staring into his eyes.

Blue eyes. The famous Wincott inheritance.

Erhard's voice was strong. "We are not going to run away."

"But-"

"We would need to find a way to defeat the Enemy. When we do that, we can go back."

Christel looked dubious. "How?"

"The Enemy can be defeated by Maryoku," Erhard told him. "we need to find the strongest Maryoku users, and combine our forces. I will leave Caloria in Tringham Gilbert's hands."

At that, Christel smiled. "You really trust him, don't you?"

"He is loyal to us," Erhard was sure. "For now, we need to leave-the sooner, the better."

Christel nodded slowly. "I'll go and prepare," he whispered, turning away before Erhard could see him crying.

Erhard could have said that it was all right to shed a few tears, because as soon as Christel left, he did just that.

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><p>They left in the night, to avoid prying eyes. Christel had let go of his tears, but he had set his jaw in such a rigid way that Erhard resisted the impulse to ask if it hurt.<p>

Tringham Gilbert wasn't happy with them leaving, but understood that it was necessary. He had agreed to hold Caloria in their absence.

"Where will you go, Sire?" Tringham asked. He had been serving in the family for many years-since Erhard himself was Christel's age. Tringham was a human, and his age already showed.

"I'm not sure, Tringham," Erhard replied. "We'll head for those areas with a higher mazoku population…but beyond that, we're not sure."

"I would like to go with you."

"No, my friend," said Erhard. "We'd rest a little better if Caloria were safe. Who knows, the humans may be right. We might be-"

"No, Sire." Tringham's voice was firm. "I'm sure that it is not your fault, nor any of the Mazoku. Master Wincott, your father, only wanted what was good for this country. You and Christel are the same."

Erhard smiled. "Don't let any of the others hear you say that. It's not a popular opinion." He mounted his horse. "Good bye."

"Safe journey, Sire. Our hopes go with you."

A pretty big burden, Erhard thought, but it was one of the things that came from being a ruler.

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><p>Christel maintained a reflective silence all the way to the borders. Their luggage composed only of what they could cram into their two horses.<p>

Because they were going to go back, he was sure. His big brother was a great Maryoku user, even among other people. More than that, Erhard was intelligent. If there was anyone who could find a way to defeat the Enemy somehow, it would be Erhard.

There was only one thing that Erhard was weak in.

"Where exactly are we?"

That.

Christel unrolled the map that he had placed by his side. This was precisely the reason why Erhard could not travel on his own-he could get lost within five paces. It was comical, surely. If Erhard was the one leading, they would have been attacked by the Enemy in the first street outside the city.

"We're in Shimaron."

"That doesn't tell us anything," Erhard said. "Shimaron is big."

"We're in the outskirts of a town called Isolde. We should probably take shelter for the night," Christel advised. "Lorien, the next town, is more than six hours away. We can set up camp in the forest."

"Doesn't Isolde have an inn?"

Christel smiled smugly. "It's a small town, rarely passed through. Don't worry, big brother. I know how to camp."

Erhard scowled. "You just insulted me, haven't you?"

"Not at all."

Of course he did. A vein in Erhard's left eyebrow twitched. "Let's go," he said.

"Yes, yes."

Once they had found a large enough clearing, they removed the packs from their horses and rubbed the animals down. Christel volunteered to gather firewood.

Erhard wasn't into things that were physical-he was an intellectual, which meant that he sorely lacked practical knowledge. He was a Majutsu user, a competent swordsman. The fact remained that he did not know how to hunt for food, or to even start a fire in the wilderness.

Christel, on the other hand, was the opposite. It seemed that he would have to take care of Erhard again.

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><p>The younger Wincott brother told his brother to put up the tent, before going some ways deeper into the forest of Isolde. It was almost suspicious how the Enemy had not attacked them-these days, many people would not venture out at night for fear of the Enemy's dolls.<p>

Perhaps they could find out something important about the Enemy on this journey…

Christel heard the sound of running water and came over to investigate. They should fill their water bags when they could. Erhard would place wards around camp once they slept, nothing would be able to get in or out.

He had just dipped the first skin into the water when he heard movement behind him. He stood up at once, his hand going to his sword. The water bag dropped into the stream, but he did not notice, because there were at least five dolls surrounding him.

Cursing, he drew his sword, just as they launched themselves at him. From experience, he knew that nothing short of maryoku would destroy these dolls. He didn't have much of that, but there was the stream…they would amplify his powers. He needed to buy some time.

He hacked at the dolls with the accuracy that won him the title of best Calorian swordsman. Within seconds, all the dolls were on the ground. But he knew that they would fix themselves.

For a moment Christel was caught with indecision. If he ran now, he could make it to camp…Erhard would destroy these dolls. But he wanted to try destroying these dolls himself. He wasn't a kid! He had maryoku! And there was the stream…

The dolls were re-forming. The time for running was past.

Christel knelt, and placed a hand into the water. The stream trembled. He used his maryoku to form several water-snakes, tearing the dolls completely apart.

It was over in a few frenzied minutes. Christel sank to the ground, panting hard. Even that little show exhausted him. He knew now that he should've asked for Erhard's help. He would be lucky to get to camp without crawling.

And he had to get back. He had to warn Erhard that the Enemy was here…

"Watch out!" someone shouted.

Christel looked up in time to see a doll dropping down from a tree and running to him with a sword raised. Christel raised his own sword, but his defense was weak. The doll easily pushed him back.

Christel closed his eyes, certain that the faceless doll would be the last thing he would ever see in this world. He mentally apologized to Erhard.

Instead he heard a clash of steel on steel. Christel's eyes opened at once.

A stranger was before him, fighting back the doll. He had light brown hair, and he was somewhere between his and Erhard's height. The stranger took care of the doll even quicker than he would have managed.

Christel raised his hand again, and summoned a last water snake. With the stranger, he destroyed the doll.

For a few minutes there was silence.

Christel attempted to stand, then felt an explosion of pain. He looked down to see that no, he hadn't entirely blocked the last thrust by the doll. It had managed to catch him on the side.

His knees buckled, and the stranger caught him. This was his first proper look at his rescuer: cinnamon brown eyes, that soft brown hair-messy, ragged, chin-length. And…

"Are you all right?" the stranger asked frantically.

"A human," Christel whispered. He was doomed. "Big brother…Erhard…"

Christel used his knuckles to force himself up. Unfortunately that caused more blood to leak out. He ignored it, now using every ounce of his willpower to pry himself away from the stranger.

The other man seemed exasperated. "Stop doing that. You'll bleed out."

Christel pressed a hand to his wound. He would just have to get to Erhard, he would heal him. His eyes fell on the bundle of firewood that he had abandoned in his fight with the dolls. Christel staggered over, and picked up the rope.

"I said stop it," the other man repeated. "Can't you see how deep your wound is?"

"Why would you care?" he huffed.

"I saved your life."

Christel did not reply. Instead he turned back the way he came, thinking only of getting his wounds healed by his brother. He heard the stranger sheathing his sword, and the next thing he knew, the stranger was supporting him.

"Don't," Christel croaked.

"You need help," the stranger said. "Where are you camped?"

Christel stared at him. Finally he sighed- a mistake, because it ripped a little more of his wound. "OW! All right, just-just head straight in this direction, and we'll get to my brother."

The stranger nodded. Christel was surprised to note that he needed the support the stranger was giving him.

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><p>Christel must have passed out, for the next thing he knew, he was hearing Erhard calling his name.<p>

"Christel! By the gods…what happened to you? And who are you? What have you done to him?"

"Brother," he groaned. He felt dizzy from the blood loss, and he saw that the tent wasn't pitched. He had entirely forgotten to ask if Erhard even knew how to put up a tent in the first place. At least the fire was already stoked…"Big Brother, don't shout."

He felt Erhard wrench him away from the stranger. Then there was his big brother's cool power, soothing the wound at his side. Christel's rescuer stood a little ways apart from them.

"What happened?" Erhard asked again.

Christel now felt well enough to stand on his own. "The Enemy…"

"Here?"

"Yes."

Erhard cursed under his breath. "I should've known. And then?"

"This…travelling swordsman helped me."

Erhard gazed at the man respectfully. "Thank you."

But the stranger shook his head. "I might have saved him, but if it weren't for your brother's maryoku, we would have been killed in the end."

"You're a human, aren't you?" Erhrad inquired.

"Yes."

"And are you travelling alone?"

"Yes."

Erhard shook his head. "You should not. You don't have maryoku. We do not know when the Enemy will attack."

"There are some things more important than protecting yourself," the swordsman pointed out.

"True," mused Erhard. "You are on an important errand?"

The swordsman hesitated slightly. "I know that I'm only a human, but I travel to seek companions to destroy the Enemy."

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><p>Erhard and Christel exchanged a glance. This man had the same idea as they had.<p>

"And what brings two Mazoku in the forests of Isolde?" continued the stranger.

For a moment, the brothers did not speak.

_Shall we tell him?_

He did save Christel's life, after all.

"We also wish to destroy the Enemy."

The stranger smiled. "Perhaps we can go together, then. With my skills with a sword, and with your maryoku..."

"Very well," Christel said immediately. "We would stay together."

Erhard stared at Christel. Usually his littke brother was willing to follow any decision that he had made. There were rare times, though, that Christel would take the lead, without consulting Erhard first. Erhard might have been irritated had he not known that Christel was an excellent judge of character-better, even, than he.

There must have been something about this stranger that Christel liked.

"Fetch your horse," Erhard told the swordsman. "We would camp here for the night. I can put up wards."

The man nodded and turned to go.

"Wait. Your name?"

The stranger smiled. "Lawrence Weller. The crown prince of Shimaron."

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><p>Fin~<p>

to those who reviewed, thank you so much! i swear i would not have continued this story if nobody told me that they were looking forward to the next chapter.

ha. sorry to those who thought that i'd start off with some daikenja and shinou scenes. it might be in the next chapter, though i'm more inclined to look at the siegbert-rufus side of the story.

clicky the little review button. tell me all about your opinion! i accept constructive criticism. you can even ask me for a special scene, as long as it's within the timeline i'm writing about-just no lemons, ne?

if you would notice, i used the term "enemy" for soushuo, because i think it was the mazoku who named them that. not the wincotts specifically.

review? please and thank you.

Lovely day to all!


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